Der Himmel ist genauso grau wie gestern. Und die Frhstcksflocken sind wie Watte in meinem Mund. Ich wei es nicht - Hab trum von dir ?. Die Sonne, die Wiese und diese Idylle - war'n das wir.
In a golden cave. She lied upon her bed. Her hands are cold and warm. Weaving a web of sorrow. . She strokes her cracked lips. And trembles as they speak:.
I'm looking at the sky, I'm trying. Not to cry, coz' it's over. The're turning down the light. It's late now. I guess it's time to say. Goodbye.... . Coz it's after dark now.
There's many a difference quickly found. Between the different people walking around. But you know it's a strange illusion, chaos and confusion... When the tree of life is cut down to where.
What we need isn't systems. Or regulating plans. But bigger guns to shoot with. And a bigger type of man. Ill will. . For good or ill, my iron will. Is unrivaled, still evil ill thrill.
I was driving home late one saturday night. Suddenly I saw this flashing light. A big hole in the ground I thought it was a lie. It was a sattelite It fell out from the sky.
Enter the dreamhouse. Leave your history at the door. This place is for heroes. Like it's never been before. Don't guess a future. You don't know how or where it'll end.
I've seen the fruits of rambling. I know hardship well. And if I'm not mistaken. I hear a ringing bell. I love to start but hate the ends. I crack a joke 'coz I know I need my friends.
When my soul is in pain. I'm going away. Going away, yeah, we're both going our ways. You want me to come along. But, I'm not coming undone. It's never going to be the same again.
I got hair in my ears. I got hair in my nose. I got hair on my back. And between my toes. When the time comes & my hairwash is due. I'm gonna use one ton of shampoo.
She holds out her hand. In warning or welcome. Haven't told anyone yet. She takes mine and says. If you can't do it right. Try again?. Yeah I've been repeating mistakes.
Hope you get this letter, wherever you are,. Should have told you everything in it,. Right from the start.. A true confession, i have to make,. I know it's a little late..
I see raincoats and newspapers. Cowboy boots. And reflected in a window on a train. I see you again. . Very brief in the night. Between the stations. A passing town.
But I'll save my dreams till I get old. I might need them some day. And I stay awake till the morning comes. I won't be waiting for them today, no. I'll be cryin' for you.
I could still be an actor. I could still be your friend. I could be a shattered pilot. I could pull out to the end. . I could still be a writer,. Still get a deadly disease.
I dream of jeanie with the light brown hair. Born like a vapor on the summer air. I see her tripping where the bright streams play. Happy as the daisies that dance on her way..
I came so far for beauty. I left so much behind. My patience and my family. My masterpiece unsigned. . I thought I'd be rewarded. For such a lonely choice.
Through fiction we saw The Birth. Of Futures Yet to come. Yet in Fiction lay the Bones. Ugly in their nakedness. . Yet under this Mortal Sun. We cannot hide Ourselves.
I hung myself with my own strings. I counted her fingers through her rings. I am here for the beautiful things. She said, "I love the way that boy sings...".
See the statues in the square. They almost look alive. It's amazing after all these years. How they've survived. . Two young children gazing at them. Faces so forlorn.